S P I R I T U A L S M A C K | S C R A P P E D E M O T I O N S
One of my closest friend and I recently took a floral arrangement class. We hunched over a studio table, picking, choosing, and plucking at our chosen flowers. We had liberty with the palette of our colours, textures, sizes, scents. A pool of peonies and soft-hued tea roses stood in vases above monotonous green clippings. We stayed after the class left to trash the clippings or rather, as I bagged the treasure they called trash.